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From: jpesonen@viikki.Helsinki.FI (JORMA JUHANI PESONEN (EKT))
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [Shadow] Darkness falls, The evil awakens.
Date: Fri, 17 Sep 1993 13:55:55 GMT
Organization: University of Helsinki, Fac.Agric.For.
Lines: 79
Message-ID: <jpesonen.182@viikki.Helsinki.FI>
NNTP-Posting-Host: atkas-9204.pc.helsinki.fi


	Fog starts to flow from the sea, as if a God was trying to 
cover the whole city from his sight. At the same time sun was going behind 
the horizon, and the light was failing to show the way to a lonesome figure, 
that was stalking the alleys of Generica.
	"Have to go home, yes, have to...Gotta be quick, not to stay, not...
Gotta hurry, but not...no running, no feet stomping, no flapping on 
gown...", it chatted itself.
	An alley right, another left, straight, and straight the dark figure 
walked.
	From above came a whisper, silent as a slight breeze. The figure 
stopped and shivered.
	"I am coming, master, I am coming", it shrieked aloud.
	It hastened itself and almost ran to the small clearing between the 
houses. It glided silently to a door and opened it. As silently, as the door 
opened it closed, shoving a sign saying:
	"Due illness in family, Perfumerie Grand Veneur is closed. Hoping to 
open soon. Master Perfumer, Malthus de la Noeuze"

	Inside it was dark. You could feel the darkness inside you, you 
could almost touch it. Malthus straightened his back, which cracked twice as 
if it protested this kind of excercise. He took the sack which he had been 
carrying and placed it on the table.
	"Here, master. Here is what you wanted. The head of the Redling 
Gang."
	From the dark doorway, which lead into the storeroom came a tall man 
in dark cloak. The hood was hiding the most of this man's appearance. Only a 
small portion of his chin could be seen as well as the thin line of the 
lipless mouth. The man opened the sack, looked at it for a while and pulled 
his hood back. The compleately blonde hair stood immediately up from the 
crevices of the hood, standing about inch high for a second, then falling 
gently on the mans shoulders. As if the time had stopped for a while to that 
hair.
	**Yes, the head of the Redlings. They had a sort of democracy, didn'
t they**, he asked in a cold, colorless voice.
	"Yes, master, as you an see. Actually, there is the most of the 
Redlings.", came a quivering sound from the pitifull man, who was now merely 
a carricature of the formerly wellfed and plump master perfumerist. Thin, 
almost skeletal hands shook a bit, as they opened the sack more, revealing a 
bit over twenty small dolls.
	"They are almost all her, master. Only few escaped the Diminutis 
Facultis."
	**Where is he?**
	"Here, in my pocket, in his own container, as you said I should do."
	**Have you fed it?**
	"Yes, master, he ate with an apetite, well he fed, believe me,
master."
	**Good.**
	The silence came into the room as swiftly as the fog came over the 
city.
	**How was My gang doing.**
	Malthus jumped at the sound.
	"Well...well...well they were doing, all well. More members, more 
crimes, not a on captured, not alive that is..."
	**Good. We shall feast on those red-white-striped monks, who stay in 
that tent in the middle of the market square. Not today, but in a few days 
anyway. Next time you tell my Puppets to get ready.**
	"Yes, of course master, of course."
	**Now sleep.**
	"Thank you, master, at once, master."
	Now the silence was compleate. As if all sounds had died many 
decades ago.

	***My power is becoming stronger in this damned city. But still, 
there is something, which is fighting back, something stronger than my pets. 
Have to get rid of it. But I have to find it first. Maybe someone could tell 
me what it is, someone of my Puppets.***

	At the junkpile near the harbour a young boy stood up from his sleep 
and started to walk. He was mumbling something as he was walking. Frogget 
the fast was on the guard that time, and as Timlyn walked past him, he heard 
him say "yes master i'm coming to you, no nobody will follow, yes i'll see 
to it" and so on. Frogget let Timlyn pass, as he had done several times 
before. He knew, that the food was on the Masters hand, and everytime 
Timlyn, or someone else went to him, there was something coming. Something 
fun. 

	Shadowmage